


Counting

by jessebee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessebee/pseuds/jessebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Showers are fun</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting

 

 

 

It's a decent shower, really. No tub, just a stall but bigger than most, a fact that Sam appreciates. Right now he's appreciating the sweet holy hell out of it, standing under water hot enough to sting his skin red and ease the pulled and aching muscles beneath. Only one thing would make it better… He sighs as hands settle on his hips. There's a brief press of something between his shoulder blades, then again, and again. "What're you doing?" he murmurs, smiling.

 

"Counting."

 

"Counting," Sam repeats.

 

"Yeah, you know: one-fish, two-fish, red-fish, blue-fish?" The touches continue, delicate and firm. "Cookie Monster, maybe? Remember the concept?"

 

Sam covers one of the hands with one of his own, twining fingers as it moves to become an arm around his waist. "Counting what?" he asks with an admirable amount of patience.

 

"Freckles."

 

Of course. "And…why?"

 

Gabriel heaves a put-upon sounding sigh. "Because they taste good, of course. Why else?" His other hand is slipping front and center to slide fingers through Sam's pubic hair, winding with precise strength around the awakening cock it finds there. "Really, Sam, and I though you were the smart one."

 

Sam sighs now as Gabriel molds against his back, solid and familiar. "I _am_ the smart one, obviously. I mean, you're here."

 

"Might just be for the sex."

 

Sam chuckles, although it strains a little as Gabriel teases, pumping him slow and loose before tickling at his balls. "Nah, you could get that anywhere. Me, on the other hand…."

 

"Mmm, you on both hands, actually." Gabriel bites Sam's shoulder blade just hard enough to sting, sending a shiver through him.

 

Sam drops his head and opens his eyes. Water runs out of his hair, sluicing down his body and washing over the puts-porn-to-shame show at his groin. Gabriel's hand is tanned, with strong, long fingers that look so good wrapped around Sam's cock, and the sight is more than enough to harden him the rest of the way. Sam groans happily. "M'exhausted, Gabriel, I don't even know how I'm getting it up at all."

 

Gabriel chuckles. "Because you're just that awesomely attracted to me. You know how to flatter a guy, don't you? Just lean back and enjoy it."

 

And Sam does. He leans back and lets Gabriel take his weight because he knows the archangel is rock-solid behind him. He lets Gabriel handle him, pump his cock just the way he likes it and a little more, some squeezy-twisty thing that only Gabriel knows how to do, because he knows that regardless of how the archangel teases, he'll still get Sam there. He lets his own hand settle back over Gabriel's hip, gripping hard, because he doesn't have to worry about his own strength – he couldn't hurt Gabriel if he tried.

 

He just relaxes and lets everything go, lets Gabriel strip it out of him, pulling it from beneath Sam's skin in rising waves of arousal, building and rising until it crests and bursts from him in long, sharp pulses that wash away with the water, leaving him weak-kneed and light-headed, muscles gone to jelly.

 

A snap and they're out of the shower stall, and Sam practically purrs at the feel of a much plushier towel than the ones the motel provided. Another snap and he's horizontal and in bed, and it feels _so_ good and he's already half-asleep, but – he forces his eyes open, reaches out, snags a wrist. "Stay?" he asks, before his brain can defuzz enough to stop his mouth.

 

He's not sure how to read Gabriel's expression, but he thinks maybe there's mischief and exasperation and possibly fondness there, fighting with a smile. "Dean'll have a coronary. Again."

 

"Yeah, but you like that."

 

"Too true." Gabriel slides under the sheet.

 

Sam promptly winds arms and a leg around him and buries his nose in dry, silky hair that smells like ozone and distant rain. Life, he thinks, is good.


End file.
